


The Dreamers of the Day

by pozorvlak



Category: Calvin & Hobbes
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 22:51:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6132892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pozorvlak/pseuds/pozorvlak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On December 31st, 1995, Calvin and Hobbes went exploring. Where did they go? Where are they now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dreamers of the Day

**Author's Note:**

> All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible.
> 
> — T. E. Lawrence,  _Seven Pillars of Wisdom_

Behind the dusty scarf covering his face, the lonely cyclist gritted his teeth and powered on up the slope.

 _If this was one of those goddamn adventure films,_ he thought, _they'd set up a fixed camera just below the pass and speed this whole thing up. Tiny dot in the distance, jump cut, now it's big enough to make out the shape of a man on a bike, jump cut, now he's only a few feet away, jump cut again, the victorious cyclist rides past the camera. But because this is real, I've got to gain every foot myself, one crank at a time._

And so, one crank at a time, he gained every foot himself. Head down, lungs screaming with the effort and the altitude, legs feeling like wet noodles, he ground out the hill until finally, miraculously, he was there.

The Khunjerab Pass! Only a hundred metres below the summit of Mont Blanc; the highest point on the Karakoram Highway and the highest paved border crossing in the world. The cyclist leaned back against his laden touring bike and took in the literally breathtaking view for a few minutes, then reached into his handlebar bag and took out the small can of tuna he'd been saving for this moment. Looking up from inside the bag was his companion of the last twenty years' adventures. They'd climbed mountains in the Yukon together, kayaked rivers in Patagonia, and been together for every single weary mile since he'd cycled away from his childhood home in the suburbs over a year ago.

He'd pared his kit down again and again, obsessively shaving every gram and throwing out everything that he could possibly do without, but the 207g of stuffed tiger was going nowhere. They'd been through far too much together. Finishing his tuna, he picked up his companion and showed him the view.

"Downhill all the way from here to Islamabad - well, most of the way. If we start now we can be in Sost by nightfall. I hear they have tigers in Pakistan, maybe we can find you a sexy tiger babe there."

He loaded his old friend back into the bag, wheeled the bike back onto the road (left-hand lane now, because he was once again in a former British colony). Then he re-fastened his face scarf, mounted the bike, and prepared himself for the bone-jarring descent to the customs post at Sost.

"It's a magical world, Hobbes ol' buddy - let's go exploring!"

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by a [Reddit writing prompt](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/47aoai/eu_on_december_31st_1995_calvin_and_hobbes_went/) by MaineSoxGuy93, and by the writing of adventurer Al Humphreys - in particular by [this post](http://www.alastairhumphreys.com/packing/). 207g is the mass of my own (now rather elderly) childhood stuffed animal, Snoopy.


End file.
